


Tease

by Luka z Rivii (wayward_dream)



Series: 500 Milestone Prompts [4]
Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Geralt needs a nap, Geralt smiles, Hair-pulling, Hand Jobs, Hopeful Ending, Insecure Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Jaskier is also a tease, Jaskier is shameless, Jaskier provides comfort, M/M, Nudity, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:41:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23442625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wayward_dream/pseuds/Luka%20z%20Rivii
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: 500 Milestone Prompts [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1686445
Comments: 2
Kudos: 106





	Tease

Fresh out of the bath after a grueling hunt, all Geralt wanted was to retire to his room and go to bed. As soon as he stepped in and shut the door behind him, however, it became evident that Jaskier had different ideas.

“…..Jaskier.”

The bastard didn’t even look up at him, though Geralt saw the subtle smirk on his face. “Hm? Yes?”

“What are you doing?” Geralt growled, staying over by the door, staring at the bard sprawled over their bed in the nude, scribbling away on some parchment without a care in the world. Clad in only a towel, Geralt rubbed a hand over his face. Seeing all that delectable skin laid out like an offering had the beginnings of arousal pooling in his groin.

“What do you mean? I’m just lounging comfortably,” Jaskier replied with great dignity.

“Where are your _clothes,_ Jaskier?” Geralt almost snarled. “And furthermore, where are _my_ clothes?”

“They were absolutely filthy, so I sent them to be washed.” 

Geralt closed his eyes. “Jaskier. Tonight is not the night to test my patience.” He curled his hands into fists at his sides so his fingers wouldn’t give him away with their twitching.

“Oh, I disagree,” Jaskier said, finally sitting up and turning to sit on the edge of the bed facing Geralt. Against his will, Geralt’s eyes darted down to drink in the sight of him, sparse hair on his chest and a trim, lithe figure, cock half-hard and stirring with wanting under Geralt’s gaze. “You’re tense and riled up and needing an outlet, which makes this the _perfect_ night to push your limits,” he continued, almost purring as he came to his feet. Geralt’s eyes snapped back up to Jaskier’s, and he swallowed at how _predatory_ the bard’s gaze was as he closed the distance between them.

Geralt didn’t consciously decide to move back, but he found his back pressing against the door. Jaskier didn’t pause until his thigh was flush against Geralt’s dick, only the towel a flimsy barrier between them. Geralt grunted and thunked his head back against the door, squeezing his eyes closed as he hissed out a curse. “Fuck. _Jaskier_.”

“Mm, not how I imagined you cursing my name, but we’ve got time to get there still,” the bard replied, clever fingers sliding over Geralt’s chest. He tweaked a nipple and Geralt twitched. The smell of Jaskier’s arousal was making his head swim, making him salivate, wanting to consume the bard.

Geralt snapped his eyes open and grabbed onto Jaskier’s wrists, prying his hands off of him and locking their eyes together. “Don’t,” he rasped. “I can’t–”

“You can,” Jaskier countered, eyes narrowing in a challenge. Despite Geralt’s bruising grip he showed no trepidation, no fear. “And what’s more, I want you to.”

“You don’t know what you’re asking for, Jaskier,” Geralt protested weakly.

“I know exactly what I want,” Jaskier scoffed. “Do you?” He raised an eyebrow and Geralt hesitated. “Geralt. Darling. I know you want me, and I have not been subtle in expressing my interests.

“I could hurt you,” Geralt said quietly, loosening his grip on Jaskier’s wrists. “I’m not…as in control as I like to pretend. _Especially_ around you.” It made him feel small and weak, admitting as such, but he needed Jaskier to _understand_.

Blue eyes went cripplingly soft as they gazed at him, calloused hands gently cupping his face and tipping their foreheads together. “You never would,” he whispered with a surety that had Geralt weak and trembling. He shut his eyes, exhaling shakily and lifting his hands to cover Jaskier’s, holding them gently to his face. “Not unless I wanted it, of course,” he added mischievously, and Geralt’s tenuous hold of his control snapped.

With a growl, he spun so Jaskier was pressed to the wall next to the door, uncaring as the towel fell away. Jaskier swallowed and Geralt’s eyes followed down to track the motion. Arms braced on the wall on either side of Jaskier, Geralt leaned in until his body was flush with Jaskier, bard’s thighs bracketing the witcher’s so their cocks pressed against each other’s hips. Jaskier moaned at the touch, grabbing onto Geralt’s shoulders, fingers digging in deliciously.

Geralt leaned down. “Has anyone ever told you,” he breathed against Jaskier’s neck, tongue darting out to taste him and getting another groan in response, dick twitching against his thigh, “that you’re an insufferable tease?” Rather than wait for an answer he latched onto Jaskier’s pulse point with his teeth, rutting against his thigh as he worried the flesh.

Jaskier cried out and bucked against him, slippery precum sliding along skin as they moved together, and Geralt decorated the side of Jaskier’s throat with a collar of love bites as they moved together. He was dimly aware of leaving gouges in the wall from where his fingers dug in, but he was more focused on the bard writhing against him.

Then Jaskier let go with one hand to slide between them, grabbing both of them in a fist and Geralt grunted, dropping his head onto the bard’s shoulder with a hiss.

“Sh sh, that’s it, let go,” he crooned as he began to fist them together, clever fingers quickly taking him apart as he whispered loving praises to the witcher. Geralt groaned, spilling over Jaskier’s fist and thighs. He shuddered and sighed, pressing a kiss to a sweaty shoulder.

“Feel better?” Jaskier asked breathlessly. He grinned when Geralt lifted his face just enough to peer at him. _Damn him._

Geralt had one last idea for how to ruin that damnable composure, and didn’t hesitate to sink to his knees. His smirk broadened into a sharp grin as he heard Jaskier’s breath hitch. Fingers in his hair made him pause and he looked up at Jaskier.

“You don’t–have to,” Jaskier forced out breathlessly, looking down at him in awe. Geralt mouthed at the vee of his hip, murmuring against his skin.

“I know,” he assured, smirking as his rumble made goosebumps break out across pale flesh. “I want to.” And before Jaskier could say another word, he took Jaskier’s cock in his mouth, down to the base in one gulp.

A litany of curses and a tug on his hair had him pleased, and he swallowed around Jaskier’s cock as he started to move his head. His hands wandered, stroking beautiful thighs as he sucked him off. Jaskier started to shake, his head thunking hard enough against the wall to make Geralt worry a bit, but he’d check on him in a moment. Jaskier might actually kill him if he stopped now.

“Geralt–Geralt,” he gasped raggedly, shallow motions of his hips stuttering. Geralt hummed and took him all the way in again right as Jaskier came, swallowing down his release and milking him through it until he shook and whimpered from overstimulation. Only then did he finally pull off, pressing his face into a toned, pale belly that smelled of sweat and the sweet summer-meadow scent of a happy Jaskier. Geralt breathed him in and sighed, content, as the fingers fisted in his hair loosened, stroking gently. They stayed like that, basking in the glow and in each other, for an indeterminate period of time. Finally, Jaskier patted his head, causing Geralt to rouse from the pleasant haze he’d been floating in.

“Hm?”

“Come on, let’s go to bed,” Jaskier replied fondly and Geralt hummed, coming to his feet and following Jaskier to bed. He considered shoving Jaskier’s pencil and parchment to the floor, but instead he gently picked them up and set them on the nightstand. The beatific smile it earned him made it all worth it.

“Are you? Feeling better?” Jaskier asked, once the two of them were under the covers, lying on their sides facing each other. The firelight from the hearth danced over his features, and Geralt had no doubt his eyes were reflecting the flames, a suspicion further confirmed by a soft gasp from Jaskier. He reached out, tentative, and Geralt contemplated silently as Jaskier hesitated. His eyes shut as light fingertips met his skin, tracing his fingers gently.

Geralt sighed. “I’m fine, Jaskier,” he murmured. “Just….tired.”

“You’ve been quiet, lately. I’ve been worried,” he murmured. “Are you really okay, Geralt?”

Slitting his eyes open to peer at Jaskier’s earnest, concerned face, Geralt felt a hint of a smile tug at his corners and caught Jaskier’s hand, holding it to his lips. “I think I’m going to be.”


End file.
